


While You Were Sleeping

by Yin



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-01-25 13:31:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21357031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yin/pseuds/Yin
Summary: Years ago, catastrophe occurred.  Chrovos disappeared.And Simmons slept.  He wakes up to a world very different from the one he remembers.
Relationships: Agent Carolina/Vanessa Kimball, Antoine Bitters/Matthews, Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Emily Grey/Sarge, Franklin Delano Donut/Frank "Doc" DuFresne, John Elizabeth Andersmith/Locus | Samuel Ortez, Kaikaina Grif | Sister/Huggins, Katie Jensen/Charles Palomo, Lavernius Tucker/Agent Washington
Comments: 13
Kudos: 33
Collections: Whole New World Continued





	1. War Machines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legal Disclaimer: I do not own _Red vs. Blue_ or any of the show’s characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

The hum of the elevator and the feel of movement told Richard “Dick” Simmons that he was below the Temple of Interior Decorating even before the clunky display in his red, cybernetic eye did. He had already gotten used to Sarge’s less than ideal _“innovations”_ when the older man had made him a cyborg given the emergency conditions under which it had happened. The memory still replaying in his head: _Simmons had never seen so much blood before in his life! If only he’d been quicker than the precariously placed equipment, then maybe it wouldn’t have crushed poor Grif._ Truth be told, it wasn’t anything more than a mild inconvenience at this point considering becoming a cyborg saved Grif’s life.

No, what worried Simmons now was that he’d been called back from Blood Gulch, and by no less than an official summons from Chrovos. That was a big fucking deal no matter how you looked at it! After all, Chrovos usually allowed their artificially created _“fake humans,”_ as some of the native Chorusians referred to them, to fulfill their assigned duties amongst the humans as they saw fit. A direct summons away from the humans was often saved for only the most extreme of cases.

Simmons supposed sacrificing parts of himself to save an inexperienced young human from certain death did count as a rather extreme case. _But Sarge hadn’t been sure about the cybernetics and Grif’s vitals had been tanking, and…!_ He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath through his now whirring artificial lungs, trying to keep the surge of panic and unease he was feeling from fully overtaking him. The redhead only partially succeeded.

Following his recovery from the cybernetic surgery, Simmons had done his best to make up for lost time, returning to his duties in aiding the human citizens of Blood Gulch to the best of his ability. He’d thought that he’d done a decent job of it, all things considered, even though it pained him that Grif couldn’t even look him in the eye anymore. So, he honestly wasn’t sure _what_ to make of the sudden summons away from the outpost and into the inner chambers of the Temple of Interior Decorating. Helping to organize things, updating computer networks, repairing old and non-functioning machinery? Truth be told, Simmons thrived in his job as a liaison to the naturally born humans of the planet.

But anyone who grew up on Chorus knew that one did not defy the will of the God of Time, Chrovos, especially not if you were one of their Servants. It had helped Simmons move even quicker that the Servant who’d come around to deliver the news, Franklin Delano Donut, was so insistent that he do so immediately, way more so than was usual for the pink-armored man’s generally cheerful, undemanding self.

So, without there being much choice in the matter, Simmons had been forced to leave Blood Gulch behind without even getting an opportunity to say goodbye to his friends. He could nearly picture Grif’s face in particular just then, could see the teenager he’d started developing a rapport with because somehow _“You do realize you could spend less time working on something if you just stopped trying to avoid it in general, right?”_ turned into a discussion on _“Do you ever wonder why we’re here?”_ and now they seemed to be stuck like glue to one another no matter how much Simmons tried to put some distance between them. It wasn’t good to get _too_ attached to humans, after all. What if one’s duty to Chrovos got in the way, like right now? Not that he’d had to worry about that too much following the surgery, seeing as how Grif was actively avoiding him since then.

Thus why Simmons was here at the Temple of Interior Decorating, which just so happened to be one of Donut’s favorite temples but one of the redhead’s least favorites due to how unnecessary and impractical it seemed. He’d been ordered to come, so he obeyed. He could imagine Grif saying _“Kiss-ass”_ under his breath and Simmons couldn’t help but smile despite himself.

The redhead was surprised to see, upon stepping out of the elevator, one lone cryogenic pod in the barren chamber beyond. A singular brown-haired figure in purple stood by the coffin-like device, running a scanning diagnostic over it.

“Doc?” Simmons called out to his fellow Servant of Chrovos, the uncertainty plain as day in his voice, “What’s the hell’s going on?”

In hindsight, it was probably a waste of time to even ask Frank “Doc” DuFresne that question. Most likely the medic knew just as little about these matters as Simmons did. After all, it wasn’t either of their places to question the will of their creator.

“Hiya, Simmons!” Doc looked up and over at the maroon-armored cyborg cheerfully, offering a friendly wave before gesturing down at the pod, “We’re just about all set up for you!”

“I’ll be going to sleep?” Simmons asked, blinking in surprise.

It wasn’t all that uncommon for Servants of Chrovos to be cycled through on occasion, but that was usually done in batches for efficiency’s sake. There was no one else here, as far as he could tell, and the lone cryogenic pod indicated only one person would be using it.

Doc rubbed the back of his head, “Yeah, those are Chrovos’ orders.” He told Simmons as a way of explanation, “Apparently you’re to get some new upgrades for your _upgrades_. Or something like that.”

It should probably worry Simmons that one of their medics, the only one here who would be putting him into cryogenic sleep, didn’t seem to know the full details of his _“upgrades.”_ He self-consciously rubbed his slightly bulkier-than-needed-to-be cybernetic arm. He should be grateful considering that Chrovos could just as easily scrapped Simmons following the accident.

But Grif had managed to survive, and that meant something, didn’t it? Well, he probably shouldn’t focus on how his arm currently looked or felt now anyways when his heart was literally beating in someone else’s chest. It was a good thing Sarge had been there and thought as quickly as he had, even if what he’d done was rather unorthodox. Even if Grif had avoided Simmons ever since. He shook his head to clear away those thoughts for the moment, “Do you know when I’ll be woken up?”

“Oh, it should probably be in a few months!” Doc assured him, smiling and gesturing down at the pod again.

Simmons reluctantly walked over and complied with Doc’s urging. The softness of the lining of the pod still doing nothing to put him at ease as he obediently laid down and closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered before drifting off was Doc humming to himself as the medic got down to work.

*****

…Then a sensation of cold, dusty air hit his face. Simmons couldn’t help but grimace slightly as a result. But, as was always the case with cryo-sleep, waking up was a slow and gradual process.

“…Should be any second now!” A high-pitched female’s voice he didn’t recognize exclaimed close by, “Keep watch for me, all right?”

And then feet were moving away as a non-comital grunt responded to her query. Simmons was left struggling to open his eyes and clear the cobwebs from inside his brain. He paused in doing _anything_, however, when he felt a finger trailing a line on his face, right where the metallic seam was. A sudden sensation of _something_ warm and cool all at once pressed against his forehead mere moments afterwards. He groaned and the feathery light weight disappeared.

When Simmons was finally, _finally_ able to open his eyes, both looking around with the natural dark colors of the space he was in instead of one side of his vision being clouded with a hazy red. He found himself staring up at mismatched, altogether familiar orbs of brown and green above him in a face that was also hauntingly familiar but older than he recalled too…

“Hey, Simmons.” An adult Dexter Grif greeted as if this was the most common occurrence in the entire world, “It’s been awhile, huh?”

*****

Dexter Grif hadn’t exactly been thrilled when he was told that he’d been assigned to check out what was undoubtedly the least useful of all of the ancient alien temples that littered the surface of Chorus. But, it was either that or stay around Armonia while that jerk Genkins was there. It figured that he’d been the one to suggest the foray to Vanessa Kimball in the first place: _“You never know what you may find this time around.”_ …which was just further proof in Grif’s mind that the sage-with-gold-and-teal-trim-armored man wanted to make everyone’s lives as fucking miserable as possible just for the shits and giggles.

So Grif reluctantly assembled his team: Matthews, Kai was letting him borrow her over-eager subordinate yet again, _(oh, goody!)_; Bitters, who seemed about as thrilled with the whole prospect as he was; and Huggins, who had also simply wanted to get out of Armonia while Genkins was there. Together with Doctor Emily Grey, they trekked through the wastelands and rubble surrounding the capital city. Not much had been left standing following the Great Disaster save those blasted temples, and most resources were spent now trying to keep Armonia up and running. That was until they _finally_ fucking arrived at the rather useless Temple of Interior Decorating. He could just picture how shocked and scandalized his teammate Donut would be by Grif calling a space created solely for décor purposes useless, but he was so tired and grumpy from the rather harsh travel that he didn’t really care. Not that he probably would have cared regardless, really. Besides, it wasn’t like the damn thing even worked anymore.

All Grif wanted to do was set up a camp and cook up some rations while Grey did her way-too-thorough walkthrough of the area to confirm that, yes, the temple was still very much inactive, something they shouldn’t have needed to come all the way out here to confirm since _none_ of the temples were working anymore. But, for some inexplicable reason, Matthews and Huggins decided that they needed to explore some and Matthews had managed to fall down into a hole as a result. Said hole led directly underneath the temple: no doubt the ground around the incredibly advanced alien building had weakened when the planet’s automated weaponry had gone online.

“Um! A little help, please?” Matthews called out, “It’s really dark down here!”

Bitters, who had exasperatedly been beside the hole in an instant, rolled his brown eyes at his friend’s attempt to remain cheerful in tone despite his current situation, “Hang on. I guess I’ll pull you out.” As he reached his hand into the hole to try and grasp Matthews, there was a strange hum of activity from down below, a soft glow now emanating from the previously dark space.

“Huh.” Matthews mused, “Suddenly it’s not so dark.”

Grif looked over at Huggins, the girl in tan armor with purple trim currently trying not to giggle, and rolled his eyes, “Thanks for stating the obvious, Matthews.” He muttered.

“Anytime, Captain Grif!” and Grif could nearly picture the auburn-haired young man actually saluting up at him and sighed.

“Fascinating!” At this turn of events, Grey shoved all three of the bystanders away from the hole so that she could peer down into it, “The chamber down below must have been built to react only to Servants of Chrovos.”

“Yay me.” Antoine Bitters muttered, sounding less than enthusiastic at the reminder of his late mother’s origins, “I’m going to find a rope or something.”

“And we’ll be right here waiting for you to get back!” Doctor Grey shouted, eager to explore the only portion of the temple that appeared to have any life in it.

*****

It was Huggins, in the temple’s dim emergency lighting, who found the pod first. She always seemed to have extremely sharp eyes in the dark, as though some unknown ball of light was constantly illuminating her way, “Whoa,” the young woman breathed out as she pointed to the new structure, “Is that what I think it is?”

“A cryo-stasis pod!” Doctor Grey practically shrieked in glee at the discovery, “Oh, and it’s intact too!”

Well, _that_ was definitely a first. The only stasis pods any of them had run into in the aftermath of the Great Disaster had been broken, their contents long since given up the ghost. A functioning one would mean that…

“There’s someone inside!” Huggins exclaimed as she, Bitters, and Matthews crowded around Doctor Grey to peer at the device.

“Yeah, and he’s still breathing!” Matthews added in excitedly.

That caught Grif’s attention and diverted it away from his pondering. He looked up and over at the pod as both Matthews and Grey removed the years’ worth of dust from the clear lid of the container to reveal a familiar, dozing face he’d long since thought was lost. Grif’s eyes widened at the sight, no words escaping his suddenly dry mouth.

Richard “Dick” Simmons. The Servant of Chrovos who had literally given Grif an arm, a leg, an eye, and an assortment of internal organs including his _heart_ when Grif had been a dumb teenager. All because of the accident and how _“Grif still clearly had so much left to live for!”_ It had been utter bullshit then, and it was probably utter bullshit now, but the young man had always carried those words with him for some reason.

Simmons, who had been a Servant of Chrovos and who had worked in the outpost of Blood Gulch where Grif had grown up. Chrovos had a ranking system for his artificially created minions, and evidently working at Blood Gulch was a sign of not being too high up on the chain, though that was how Simmons had come to meet Sarge, Kai, Grif, and the others. The redhead even lived with Sarge and Lopez whenever he’d been stationed at the outpost.

Grif remembered all of this because he had found the lanky Servant of Chrovos fascinating, from his looks and awkward personality, to the way he was just as human and fallible as the rest of them. Grif had even helped him out a few times with his work as result. Then the accident in the junkyard happened, and Simmons had chosen to become a defect in order to save Grif’s life. Despite how much adjustment that had taken, Grif’s opinion of the man had only become stronger after that. Maybe even changed from acquaintances to they could maybe be friends, and then one day they could maybe even….

But then the dumb cyborg had gotten recalled on account of _him_ and left without fucking saying anything. Though to be fair, Grif had been rather avoidant of him just because he wasn’t sure how to process the new wealth of feelings he was experiencing. Grif had been pissed off so much at both Simmons and Sarge, though he understood that the Servants of Chrovos couldn’t exactly abandon their calling.

He’d always assumed that the redhead had been scrapped, but since his heart always ached at the thought he tried not to dwell on it. Or that Simmons died when the war machines had been activated as so many of Chrovos’ Servants had due to the sudden loss of their creator in that calamity. But here, now, was Simmons. Right in front of him. And fucking _alive_. Grif couldn’t believe it, and he only barely registered when Doctor Grey started up the task of deactivating the pod.

“What are you doing, Doctor Grey?” Grif heard Matthews question curiously.

“Well, we certainly can’t lug this huge thing back to Armonia with us, so our friend here will have to walk!” She informed them cheerfully.

“Poor bastard.” Bitters muttered sympathetically, earning him a horrified look from Matthews and a stifled giggle from Huggins.

Grif, rather uncharacteristically, started. That meant that he’d get the chance to talk to Simmons sooner rather than later, right? What had he even been doing down here in stasis all by himself? Did he even know of what had happened to Chorus? Would he even recognize him or the others or…?

The cybernetics that now made up the visible portions of Simmons’ arm and part of his face were no longer the crude, secondhand ones that Sarge had hurriedly cobbled together. They were comprised of sleek metal and circuitry, perfectly proportioned to his body. Had Chrovos actually gone to the effort of upgrading the nerd instead of canning him entirely? That was a bit hard to wrap Grif’s brain around given how disposable the god’s Servants always seemed. And yet…

Huggins shot Grif a concerned look for his continued silence, but ultimately said nothing as she and the two lieutenants dispersed to investigate more of the temple. After all, with this chamber suddenly becoming active, it could mean that other areas of the space long since thought a lost cause could potentially be reactivated too.

“I still have some work to do myself!” Grey happily stated, turning to Grif, “It should be any second now. Keep watch for me, all right?”

…And then the dark-skinned woman in white and purple was gone following Grif’s grunt of bare acknowledgement, leaving Grif alone with a still sleeping Simmons. Disbelieving that Simmons could really be _right_ there after all this, Grif reached out tentatively with his hand to gingerly touch the cyborg’s face. He used the excuse that he was just trying to remove a bead of sweat that had suddenly formed there from Simmons’ recent exposure to the dry air.

The redhead’s skin was clammy and warm, his metal plating cool to the touch. He was _right here_. The kiss-ass nerd was back. Grif suddenly grinned and, before he could really stop himself to think about what he was doing, he pressed his lips briefly to Simmons’ forehead.

It was an impulse he cursed himself for two minutes later when Simmons groaned and blinked open his eyes, both green now instead of one being an artificial red, although one still shined a bit more than natural though. The redhead took in a deep breath as his brain worked overtime to process just what was going on after having been asleep for who-knew-how-long.

Simmons’ eyes finally zeroed in on Grif’s face. The recognition that suddenly bloomed there causing Grif’s breath to freeze in his chest, then he smirked expectantly at the redhead (who appeared to be what now, a year or two younger than him? He could get used to that), “Hey, Simmons. It’s been awhile, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the first chapter to my NaNoWriMo project for this year! :D I have the entire story already outlined, though I know I might not finish it in the span of this month. Still, hopefully I’ll be able to get a decent chunk of it out all the same! :) And then it is back to working on my WIPs along with this one, I promise! :D
> 
> The story will be written from both Simmons and Grif’s POVs, though I’m planning lots of plot and relationship moments for everyone in the story still. I hope you’ll enjoy it, and thank you so much for reading! :)


	2. Aliens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legal Disclaimer: I do not own _Red vs. Blue_ or any of the show’s characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

Richard “Dick” Simmons stared at the vast wasteland, caught completely off-guard by the sight as Antoine Bitters apathetically helped the shocked redhead and Matthews through the hole they’d traversed through when they had first found the cyborg. “What the fuck happened here?” Simmons couldn’t help but get out in one terrified burst of air. He couldn’t process that this was indeed the same area he’d last seen before going to sleep.

He was so used to seeing verdant greenery as far as the eye could see leading up to the temples so it seemed as if he had awoken to an alien planet. Splotches of green fought to once again take root in order to reclaim what used to be buildings, but the vegetation seemed to be growing at a snail’s pace given the scorched earth it had to traverse. It seemed that the road leading to the Temple of Interior Decorating had long since been lost, replaced instead with strewn rubble and struggling tufts of grass.

As they began carefully making their way to the ground transport that the group had evidently arrived in, the dark-skinned lieutenant called Bitters eyed him cautiously, though it was hard to take him seriously with his hair being a multitude of different colors atop his head, “So you really slept through it?” Bitters asked, his tone indicating he had a hard time believing the claim, “The Great Disaster?”

“Great Disaster?” Simmons questioned, furrowing his brows as he didn’t liking that particular wording one bit. Though, looking around his current surroundings, the phrase certainly explained much in quite a straightforward way.

“Oh, he wouldn’t have had a choice!” The woman known as Doctor Emily Grey came flouncing into view along with the brunette who had introduced herself before merely as Huggins, “Those cryostasis pods are designed to not wake their subject until their programming states to, or they’re manually overridden.”

“Huh.” Bitters cast an indifferent glance the maroon-wearing man’s way then, “Lucky.”

“Yeah.” Yet somehow, Simmons didn’t exactly feel lucky. He used the sudden lull in conversation to glance towards Grif again, still rather unnerved at the now older man’s age compared to when he saw him last as a teenager. The fatass was smoking. Simmons sighed, really hoping that the tan-skinned man in orange hadn’t ruined Simmons’ heart already. It wasn’t like he had another he could give him now.

Matthews glanced between Bitters and Simmons nervously before taking in a deep breath to change the subject, “Did you two find anything else, Doctor Grey?” He asked both her and Huggins, voice clearly hoping they did.

Huggins spared the temple one more glance, looking as though she were fighting the urge to give it the finger, “Nope!”

“Besides rescuing our friend Simmons here, the temple was exactly as we expected it to be. Dead as a doornail!” Grey further explained in a far more cheery voice than the situation warranted.

Grif let out an exasperated sigh, “Of course it fucking was.” He muttered under his breath, apathetic to the bone.

“It always fucking is.” Bitters stated rather bitterly, while Matthews and Huggins hung their heads dejectedly.

The atmosphere just then became heavy and tense which Simmons found hard to fathom given his already high stress levels. The cyborg fidgeted under the intensity of the group’s collective emotions, unsure of what exactly they were talking about. The temples all over Chorus had somehow gone inactive? Was that even possible? “Um…” Simmons began, though he stopped himself when he realized he wasn’t sure what exactly to say or ask.

Doctor Grey gave him a rather sympathetic look, as if reading the redhead’s mind. She turned to the others, “I think we should make camp here before attempting to go back since it’s so late already.” She said, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. Simmons felt like she was asking them to sleep in a graveyard.

There was a noticeable groan in response from Bitters, though Matthews and Huggins readily shushed him. Apparently one didn’t really argue with Doctor Grey, Simmons noted. Grif merely shrugged, as if the matter didn’t affect him in the slightest. It probably didn’t since Grif used to be able to sleep anywhere.

“Perfect!” Grey smiled and clapped her hands together as if the matter was settled, “That way we can fill Simmons in on what he’s missed out on.”

…Simmons nodded in reply, already feeling that this was going to be a very, _very_ long night.

*****

Simmons discovered that the cataclysmic event that everyone referred to as the Great Disaster must have happened sometime shortly after Doc had put him into cryostasis. For no discernible reason that anyone could perceive, Chorus’ self-defense systems, set up eons ago by Chrovos, had suddenly activated all at once, decimating the very planet that they’d been meant to protect. _Many_ people died as a result, and many more followed in the tumultuous days initially afterwards when chaos, confusion, and hysteria were the norms.

Eventually, the survivors who hadn’t turned to outright banditry began to unify at the remains of the old capital city of Armonia to discern the damage, as well as to ultimately rebuild. The survivors ran into several hurdles though, one of the main ones being that there were hardly enough resources to sustain everyone. Plus, the temples that could have potentially helped in that matter had all ceased being accessible. Chrovos themselves had gone missing following the Great Disaster, and those few surviving Servants of Chrovos had been left with no idea where the deity had vanished to.

Even worse? There was apparently a deadline for when the planetary security system would go off again. _“Could be a year from now, could be twenty!”_ Grey admitted in a way too cheerful singsong voice than what the situation warranted. Only the still missing Chrovos could potentially stop the security system.

Prioritizing getting the temples back up and running for quicker resources, all while trying to locate the missing god of time, were now the only ways that anyone knew to survive. The people of Chorus were all in a constant state of rebuilding, a doomsday clock looming overhead. Such was the world that Simmons had woken up to, a far cry from the relatively peaceful one he had known before. Sure, back then there had been bandit attacks at the outposts on occasion and being a Servant of Chrovos hadn’t always been the best but…

It was a whole fuck-ton to process. Simmons was still trying his hardest to do just that well after the others had called it a night, staring into the dim light of the now struggling fire the group had made. He made no attempt to get up and refuel it. An extremely large part of the redhead, panicked and unsure, almost wished that he was back asleep underneath the Temple of Interior Decorating. But that wasn’t exactly fair to everyone else who had been stuck enduring this nightmare, now was it?

The sputtering firelight gleamed off his new metallic arm, and he glanced down at it with a frown plastering his face. The sleek design was worlds above his previous limb, which had simply been Sarge’s crude rush job. When, exactly, had his cybernetics been updated? It must have occurred before Chrovos disappeared. Was that the last task that the god performed? An almost guilty feeling crept over Simmons at the thought, especially when he realized for the first time that he was actually _free_ for once in his life, only for it to be under such nightmarish circumstances.

“Hey.” Dexter Grif’s voice coming from directly behind brought him out of troubling thoughts and Simmons started.

“Hey.” He replied back weakly before smirking slightly to cover up his troubling thoughts, “Can’t sleep?” Simmons smiled somewhat as if at an old joke, “Bet that’s a first.”

“It just might be, Simmons. It just might be.” Grif grinned in response, sitting down next to Simmons, who felt oddly grateful for the contact.

For a few moments, a comfortable sort-of silence settled between the two men. Then Grif let out a breath he’d evidently been holding, “It’s a lot to process.” He finally mumbled.

“Tell me about it.” Simmons gripped his knees tightly, shaking his head as he closed his eyes, “I can’t even imagine.”

“Then _don’t_, Simmons.” Grif advised him succinctly, “It’s not a pretty picture.”

“Right.” Then, because it was the only thing he could even think to say, “S—sorry.”

Grif shrugged absentmindedly in response, “Not like we haven’t had years to get used to this.” He said apathetically.

“But…!” Simmons wanted to protest, but the look on Grif’s face told him it really wouldn’t matter what he said. So instead, the cyborg blurted out another question he’d been meaning to ask, “How’s Kai?”

“Still alive and kicking.” The heavyset man replied, genuinely surprised yet also touched at the same time by the question about his little sister.

Simmons let out a shaky sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction, “And Sarge?”

“About the same as always.” Grif assured him, “Maybe even crazier.”

“And…” Simmons was about to ask after someone else, _anyone_ else who came to mind really, when Grif raised his hand to cut him off.

“Why don’t you wait until we get to Armonia and you can just check the databases yourself instead of playing Five Hundred Questions here?” Grif asked with a yawn, “That might be easier on the both of us.”

As curious and anxious as Simmons was, he had to admit that Grif had a point, “You’re right. Sorry, Grif. It’s just—!”

“I get it. Believe me.” Grif reassured him, and a keen look of understanding was in his mismatched eyes, “I was a wreck the moment I realized what happened too, trying to find everyone.”

The way he said that caused Simmons to frown speculatively, “You mean you weren’t at Blood Gulch?” He asked. As much as the younger Grif back then always claimed to hate that place, it seemed odd to picture him _not_ being there all the same.

“Long story.” Grif said, letting out a rather powerful and pointed yawn, “One I don’t really feel like sharing.”

“Oh.” Simmons’ shoulders slumped, his innate curiosity hitting a proverbial brick wall.

Grif saw the rejection in the redhead’s body language and sighed, “But it’s no big deal or anything.” He tried weakly reassuring Simmons, “We’ll get things sorted out as soon as we get to Armonia. You’ll see.”

“R—right.” Simmons said, faking more confidence than he truly felt, “Thanks, Grif.”

“You’re welcome, nerd.” There was a slight pause then, and Grif looked away before adding under his breath, “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.” Simmons was surprised by how genuine the feeling behind that statement was given everything he’d learned about the Great Disaster, “Though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Tell me about it.” Grif snorted.

Still, it felt rather nice being around Grif again. Even if things were rather different now and the whole world seemed alien to him. Simmons wasn’t sure exactly why, but he smiled slightly. If Grif noticed, he thankfully didn’t say anything. They both sat there for a while longer near the dying fire, lost in their thoughts.

*****

The transport the group was riding in towards Armonia was halted just outside the city gates. All Grif wanted to do was get inside, and maybe get a certain nerdy redhead settled. Then plop down at home with something to eat before taking a long, overdue nap. It fucking figured it wouldn’t be that easy.

“’Bout time you showed up!” A familiar, gruff voice stated, causing Grif to groan and roll his dual-colored eyes, “We were just about to send a search party for everyone but Grif.”

“Missed you too, Sarge.” The heavyset man muttered sarcastically under his breath.

“That never gets old.” Huggins joked over her shoulder to Matthews and Bitters while Grey hummed to herself in the background as the older man in red armor went to help her get her scanning equipment from the vehicle.

There was a slight pause in Sarge’s step when he registered Simmons standing sheepishly nearby, “Well, I’ll be!” He exclaimed, his brown eyes widening in surprise, “Simmons, is that you?”

Grey grinned and winked, patting Sarge’s arm affectionately, “Never let it be said we didn’t come back with a souvenir!” She joked.

Simmons timidly took a step forward and actually _saluted_ in true kiss-ass fashion, “Hello, sir.” He greeted Sarge, “Sorry it’s been awhile.”

Grif couldn’t help but sigh at the cacophony that resulted from _that_. So much for trying to sneak in a nap undetected! But Simmons _was_ back. The redhead hadn’t disappeared in the middle of the night, no matter how many times Grif found himself checking. There had been no orders from a missing god to send Simmons away again. He could be grateful for small favors, at fucking least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Chapter Two! I apologize if it isn’t the most exciting of updates, but I thought I needed to explain a bit more of Chorus’ current situation in this fic. I liked having the chance for Grif and Simmons to have more of a heart-to-heart as a result! :)
> 
> Next update: familiar faces show up as reunions and meetings are had! :D I’m looking forward to those reunions. Thank you so much for reading! :)


	3. Dystopia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legal Disclaimer: I do not own _Red vs. Blue_ or any of the show’s characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

“I’ll tell you what, Simmons, we’d long since given you up for dead along with those other poor bastards of Servants followin’ the Great Disaster!” Sarge declared, and Dexter Grif almost, _almost_ felt bad for Simmons as the older man in red dragged the cyborg through Armonia’s dirty, bustling streets.

“T—that’s what I’d heard, sir.” Simmons replied as he proceeded to shoot a bewildered look Grif’s way for help. The other man merely shrugged and grinned back, enjoying Simmons’ current helplessness. Hey, it beat having Sarge insulting him for what would be the umpteenth time!

The orange-armored man’s grin turned into a full-fledged smirk when Sarge patted the still dazed Simmons on the back, exclaiming, “We’re just glad to have you back with us.”

“Thank you, sir, but,” Simmons looked torn between being grateful for the attention and uncomfortable with it all at once, “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened to the other Servants?” His voice was both curious and pained at the thought of so many of his peers no long being around.

While Grif was mostly just relieved that the same fate that had befallen most of the other Servants hadn’t happened to Simmons, he felt a twinge of sympathy all the same. After all, it had to suck to wake up to life being so radically altered. It had certainly sucked living through it. Behind Grif, Bitters let out a sharp outtake of breath. The chubby man momentarily felt a bit of concern for his normally apathetic subordinate considering that Bitters’ mother had been a Servant of Chrovos and she…

“That’s the curious part!” Grey exclaimed in place of Sarge, putting a hand on the older man in red’s arm as if to say that she’d take it from there, “Those who weren’t killed immediately in the Great Disaster became sick rather suddenly. Try as we might, we couldn’t figure out a cure!” She furrowed her brows, “It was most perplexing, especially since everyone here knows how much I love to solve a good mystery!”

Matthews was now holding Bitters’ arm in a consoling gesture. Bitters quickly shook his head as if to reassure his friend that he was fine, pulling away to walk in front of the group. Matthews watched the dark-skinned man go, obviously still very much concerned.

“We think it might have had something to do with losing their innate connection to Chrovos, but we can only speculate.” Grey concluded, “The few who survived the sickness had no ill effects afterwards to further study.”

“I see.” Simmons looked as if he might become sick himself at the prospect.

“It’s probably a good thing you ended up missing that illness, Simmons.” Sarge told him in what was probably meant to be a consoling manner, patting the redhead’s arm in the process.

“I…” Simmons began, but his voice trailed off as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Grif took a step closer to him, about to open his own mouth to say something when…

“Hey, asshole!” Kaikaina Grif’s loud voice being thrown his way cut off whatever he might have been about to say to the nerd, “Why didn’t you guys contact us when you first got here?”

“Kai!” Huggins gleefully yelled, racing over to the other young woman to give her a hug, “Always great to see you.”

“Of course!” Kai winked at her, “It’s great to see you too, babe.”

_Of course_ they were going to do their play-flirting out in the middle of the street like this. Grif sighed exasperatedly with affection for both girls.

“Kaikaina, ma’am!” Matthews exclaimed, rushing over to salute his technical supervisor, “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“Suck up.” Bitters muttered fondly under his breath, causing the auburn-haired lieutenant to blush.

“Welcome back.” Kai left her arm draped over Huggins’ shoulders, the brunette in tan armor with purple trim not seeming to mind the continued contact, “Was my jerkoff of an older brother actually decent to you for once?”

Grif wanted to say he wouldn’t _have_ to watch out for Matthews if Kai was at all interested in her leadership duties, but held his tongue since Matthews was quick to come to his defense, “Always, ma’am!” He was very quick to assure her, “Whenever I go with Captain Grif, I learn a lot.”

“Through no effort on his part, miraculously.” Bitters sarcastically remarked like the true maverick that he was.

“Cuéntame sobre eso.” _{“Tell me about it.”}_ Lopez muttered in agreement with the orange-trimmed lieutenant.

“When did you get here?” Grif couldn’t help asking the Spanish-speaking robot at his sudden appearance.

“He estado aquí todo el tiempo. No es mi culpa que estuvieras demasiado ocupado haciendo que los ojos de la habitación en el cyborg se dieran cuenta.” _{“I've been here the whole time. Not my fault you were too busy making bedroom eyes at the cyborg to notice.”}_ Lopez stared at him evenly.

Grif decided to ignore what Lopez had said yet again, grateful that no one else but Lopez and Locus even knew he could understand what the brown-armored robot was saying as he willed his face to not heat up as much as he felt it might.

“We even got a present this time!” Huggins exclaimed with a mischievous wink in Grif and Simmons’ direction before she gestured over at the redhead, “Look!”

“No fucking way.” Kai walked over to Simmons to get a closer look, “That’s really you, gray guy?”

“Hey, Kai.” Simmons rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Long time, no see.”

“Come here, nerd.” Kai lunged and pulled him into a hug, which promptly turned into a head rub that the redhead tried in vain to escape from. Simmons cast a pleading look Grif’s way while Kai shot her brother a knowing look that he pleaded inwardly she wouldn’t comment on. When she finally released Simmons, Kai grinned and smacked him on the back, “Just glad to have you back. I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

The damn brat was looking smugly right at him. Grif quickly turned his head away to hide his face further heating up. “The rest of the guys are gonna love this!” Kai exclaimed happily, which is when Grif heard footsteps coming up behind them.

“Love what?” Tucker asked, pausing when he saw Simmons as Washington and Carolina nearly bumped into his back in the process, “No fucking way!”

No doubt Blue Team had just finished up a mission of their own as Caboose trailed behind the three newcomers with Lieutenants Palomo and Andersmith, “Hey! Simon is back!” He stated happily into the shocked silence that followed, waving exuberantly, “Hey, Simon!”

Simmons, looking more and more flustered by the moment, waved weakly back.

*****

Richard “Dick” Simmons had to take a break for a moment, sitting down by himself to gather his thoughts in what was a rubble-strewn, rather crude attempt at a park near where the military headquarters for Armonia was located.

_Carolina, who had apparently been on her way to visit with the leader of all of Chorus now, a woman named Vanessa Kimball, offered to take Simmons with her to visit for official reasons though once they were out of earshot of their rather boisterous friends, she shot him a conspiratorial grin and said, “It looked like you needed just a few minutes to breathe.”_

_ Simmons nodded his head gratefully to her even though he was reluctant to leave Grif and the others behind. There was just so much to get caught up on! He almost felt as if he were drowning on air, though he couldn’t help but pause when he noticed that a certain someone was conspicuously absent from their sister’s side, “Where’s Church?”_

_ Carolina stiffed slightly at the question, “He…he didn’t survive the Great Disaster.” She told him in a low murmur, “He and another man we knew named Doyle passed away then. They…they saved a lot of lives though.”_

_ “O—oh. I’m sorry.” Simmons was unsure of what else to say, although he knew the odds of many of the people he’d worked with or known before not surviving were rather high given the scope of the devastation. It was a miracle that Grif and the others had. He was immensely grateful, even as the news about Church hit him with a wave of sadness. The guy could be asshole at times, but he’d been a good friend in his own way nonetheless._

_ …Things had definitely changed while he’d been asleep._

_ “Thank you.” Carolina nodded curtly and quickly changed the subject, “At least this way you can avoid a proper medical examination from Doctor Grey for a bit longer.” She told him, “Tucker was going to force her to look at Wash first.”_

_ “Is he sick or…?” Simmons asked, suddenly concerned about the former Freelancer in steel armor with yellow trim._

_ “It’s an old injury that flares up from time to time.” Carolina informed the cyborg, though the cyan-wearing woman’s expression clearly stated that she didn’t feel it was her place to say more._

_ “Okay.” Simmons replied, figuring he would have to get used to those kinds of cryptic remarks on account of everything that has happened on Chorus since he was last awake, no matter how much his natural curiosity rebelled at the thought._

_ The visit with Kimball had been interesting. Apparently she and Carolina were on quite friendly terms because the dark-skinned woman’s tired expression became more relaxed after seeing the redhead’s face. She’d been courteous to Simmons, after all he was a friend of the Reds and Blues as their disparate group originally from Blood Gulch was now called. However, that didn’t stop her from running his recollection of past events through the fascinating lie detector of Santa, an ancient alien A.I. who had apparently helped her to stabilize Armonia enough to be a place where refugees from all over Chorus could come and rebuild. Simmons had been most curious by the appearance of Santa given that he clearly predated even the creation of the Servants of Chrovos. Apparently his over-eager questions about the A.I., as well as Carolina’s fond nostalgic smile at her friend’s antics, had been enough to endear him to the leader of Chorus._

_ Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately really as he had no idea what he should do now that he’d woken up, that newfound endearment meant Kimball was ready to put him to work right away, assigning him to the Reds _(“That name was at Sarge’s request given his strong attachment to that color.” Kimball told him wryly.)_, and even introducing him to a lieutenant that he’d be in charge of training._

_ “It’s an honor to work with you, sir!” The wide-eyed Katie Jensen said, seemingly as excited about the prospect as Simmons was nervous._

_ While Jensen had gone off to prepare herself for the start of her training, Kimball excused Simmons as “Carolina and I have matters to discuss regarding Armonia’s security.”_

_ Kimball’s bodyguard, a rather silent and altogether intimidating man simply called Locus, saw Simmons out following an encouraging wave from Carolina with the quiet advice that the maroon-wearing man “take some time to process things” before he rejoined the others._

That was just what Simmons intended to do. He sat on the park bench and tried to unsuccessfully not wish that Grif was there with him. He desperately wanted a distraction from his overwhelming thoughts. So much had happened in so little time, and he was no longer connected to Chrovos and…

Before the panic could build up anymore than it was threatening to do, a familiar voice called out, “Simmons? It’s really you?”

The redhead blinked, looking up in surprise at both Doc and Donut standing there, smiling cheerfully at him as if everything was perfectly all right. “I thought…!” Simmons began dumbly before trailing off, the unspoken line of his thinking leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Doc and Donut both glanced at one another, something unreadable to Simmons in their expressions. It was a little unnerving, to say the least, “Yeah, about that,” Donut began, rubbing the back of his dirty blond head of hair, “We were both out of the way of the killing wave when it happened.”

_The _what_ now?_ Simmons waited for an elaboration on that “killing wave” comment, but Donut kept moving the conversation along as if he hadn’t been horribly cryptic, “Now we’re part of the Reds and Blues!” He said, puffing out his chest proudly, “I’m with Red Team.”

“I’m on both. Technically.” Doc said in way of further explanation, pointing to his purple-colored armor.

But Simmons was still hung up on that one particular nasty phrase, “Killing wave?” He repeated incredulously, his voice reaching a higher pitch, “What are you talking about?”

Doc and Donut glanced at one another yet again, an entire silent conversation playing out between them before they turned to the thoroughly bewildered cyborg once more, “We have a lot to catch you up on, Simmons.” Doc told him quietly.

“Bear with us, okay?” Donut had an apologetic look in his brown eyes, “It’ll probably be a tough loud to swallow, but we swear it’s all true!”

As Simmons listened to the pair’s story, he felt the mechanism that now served as his heart drop down into the pit of his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another set-up chapter, but I thought it was important to try to introduce a few more characters early on in the story. Next update will actually move the plot along as Simmons learns the truth behind the Great Disaster from Doc and Donut, him and Grif bond more and become roomies, and Genkins makes his long-awaited appearance in the story to thicken the plot! :D
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! :D


	4. Time Travel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legal Disclaimer: I do not own _Red vs. Blue_ or any of the show’s characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

Richard “Dick” Simmons stared in stark disbelief at Doc and Donut after they told him what had transpired on Chorus, “Th—there’s no fucking way!” He murmured, unable to think of anything else to say. They had to be wrong, right? After all, why…? His new appendages and cybernetic eye suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable and heavy.

“I’m afraid not, Simmons.” Donut told the cyborg sincerely, he and Doc looking at one another as if trying to gauge the level of Simmons’ disbelief.

“Chrovos wanted to destroy the world.” Simmons repeated incredulously, “Wanted to kill everyone?”

“What Chrovos really wanted was to start Chorus over. You know, to begin again with a timeline before the humans showed up.” Doc explained further, “Wiping everybody out was just a result.”

“You knew about this?” A shocked Simmons asked, looking wide-eyed at both Doc and Donut.

“We may have helped. A little bit.” Donut said at length, though he was quick to add, “Unwittingly, mind you!”

“My involvement may have been somewhat more wittingly.” Doc amended for himself, though he threw his hands up in the air, “But I’m better now, I swear!”

“Yeah, you learned the error of your ways when I nearly killed you.” Donut told him, his voice surprisingly fond as if he was recalling a warm memory and not an apparently homicidal moment between the two men.

“That _was_ one way to bring me back to my senses.” Doc’s voice was equally fond, and Simmons could only think he was witnessing the strangest romantic banter ever. Of all time.

“Anyways, the reason that the timeline reset ended up not completely happening was because I tried stopping Chrovos.” Donut informed Simmons, though he looked a tad sheepish as he guiltily added, “It didn’t quite go as well as I’d hoped.”

“But you did end up saving as many people as you could, Donut!” Doc assured the pink-armored man gently.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Simmons exclaimed, as though it were important he jump in with reassurance too since, truth be told, the last thing anyone needed was a depressed Donut.

“Thanks, guys!” Donut cheered up, though his expression turned uncharacteristically serious a second later, “But the danger is far from over.”

“Right.” Simmons murmured, remembering what he’d been told about the current situation on Chorus and that there could be a second cataclysmic event at any time.

“Yeah, a new reset that will surely finish what the first one started.” Doc surmised, as Simmons had apparently voiced his troubled thoughts out loud.

Donut nodded, “We have to try and stop it. Everyone’s suffered so much already.”

“Agreed.” Simmons wasn’t sure what he could really do, but he wanted to help in any way that he could.

“The best way to do that is to figure out how to activate the temples again and maybe find out how to defeat Chrovos once and for all.” Donut muttered, as if he’d gone over this a million times before already.

“Fortunately, our friends here in Armonia are attempting to do just that. Reactivate the temples, I mean.” Doc stated thoughtfully so that the newly awakened redhead in their midst wouldn’t be totally lost.

“Aren’t the Armonians trying to find Chrovos as well?” Simmons asked, “Maybe if we told them what you’ve just told me they could assist.”

Doc and Donut looked at one another, than at Simmons, “I think we need to wait for the right time, Simmons.” Doc said gently.

“Yeah, everyone here is pretty much united because they’re looking for Chrovos. If they knew that Chrovos isn’t the benevolent god that they though,” the pink-wearing man paused to shrug helplessly, “It could get chaotic.”

“You weren’t around when this first happened.” Doc informed Simmons, looking away as if reliving painful memories, “It was brutal.”

Simmons thought of the others suffering as much as Grif had apparently, and he clenched his fists at his sides tightly, “Why do you think I was put into stasis beforehand?” He asked in a calmer sounding voice than he truly felt, “Why did Chrovos bother modifying my cybernetics instead of rejecting me as a failure?”

That had been what he’d expected. It would have been the logical choice. The one he had expected Chrovos to make.

“We don’t know.” Doc answered truthfully, “But the answers might lie in the tech of the temples.”

Simmons nodded and Donut patted his shoulder sympathetically, “I know this is a lot to take in all at once,” the dirty blond said, “But thanks for wanting to help.”

The cyborg smiled weakly, “No problem.”

*****

Simmons had a massive headache when he walked away from the private area that Doc and Donut had brought him to, the lingering pain becoming larger given the new information he was trying to process about Chrovos’ betrayal, the current state of Chorus, and his own new cybernetics. Everything was swimming in his head, and the maroon-armored man just wanted to sit down and feel overwhelmed for a good long while. Still, Chorus might not even _have_ a good long while, according to everyone. That thought alone made him feel even more ill.

_“Simmons!”_ He was surprised and oddly elated at the sound of Grif calling out his name, having been so lost in his thoughts that he’d walked right past the chubby man and Locus without even realizing it. Grif waved the redhead over, “Still trying to figure things out, huh?” He asked, easily picking up on the contorted expression clouding over Simmons’ face just then.

“It’s no doubt much to process.” Locus stated in his gruff voice, though Simmons was surprised at how oddly sympathetic he sounded.

“Talking to Doc and Donut can break your brain.” Grif continued, trying his best to look as indifferent as possible despite the curiosity lighting up his mismatched eyes, “But I guess there were some Servants of Chrovos stuff to catch up on?”

Simmons thought of his recent conversation with the pair in question and shakily nodded his head, “Y—yeah.” He felt like maybe he should tell Grif what he’d learned at least, but he wasn’t sure how the other man would react and he certainly didn’t know Locus well enough to risk saying anything in front of him. What if they thought that Doc and Donut were really enemies? Or that _none_ of the Servants of Chrovos could be trusted? Simmons glanced down at his metallic arm just then, wondering _if_ he could be trusted, not catching the brief look of worry that crossed over Grif’s features.

“I should get going.” Locus excused himself, Simmons looking up sharply at his sudden exit.

“Sure, but don’t forget to come by later for some food!” Grif told the leaving mercenary, shaking his head, “I swear that guy would starve to death if it weren’t for me and Kai giving him meals.”

Simmons blinked in surprise, “You’re friends?” He asked, truly perplexed.

Grif nodded, and for a moment there was a dark look in his eyes as he muttered, “Locus saved my life before when my outpost…” He paused and shook his head, “Doesn’t really matter anymore, but he sucks at looking after himself so we all take turns making sure the guy remembers to eat or take a break.”

“I see.” Simmons vaguely recalled the Reds and Blues doing the same thing back at Blood Gulch with Washington and Carolina.

Grif regarded Simmons then, “You should totally stop by for mealtimes now that you’re here.” He told him, “You look like you’d forget to eat if left to your own devices too.”

Simmons blushed at how accurate an assessment that was, though he tried playing it off, “Th—that’s not true!”

“Uh-huh.” Grif didn’t look too convinced, “Come to think of it, did you get assigned a place to sleep yet?” Simmons paused, now realizing for the first time that he actually hadn’t. His expression must have revealed as much to Grif because he sighed and grabbed Simmons’ shoulder, “Come on, but this is only temporary, okay?”

*****

“So the nerd is staying with us?” Kai asked from the ratty couch in their equally disheveled living space, “Cool, as long as he shares your room and not mine.” She raised an eyebrow, “Unless you want to be roomies, of course.”

“Er…” Simmons felt his face heat up and he instinctively hid behind Grif.

“Relax. She already has a roomie anyways.” Huggins assured Simmons as she draped her arms over Kai, winking conspiratorially.

“The best one!” Kai kissed her cheek.

“You live here too?” Simmons asked the brunette.

“Yeah.” Huggins nodded, “Ever since Kai and Grif found me outside of Armonia with nowhere to go.” She fixed him with a pointed look, “Those Grifs sure do like to take in strays, huh?’

“Um…”

Grif rolled his eyes, “Come on, you two. You’re scaring him.”

“But it’s so much fun!” Kai said with a hearty laugh.

“Ignore her.” Grif told Simmons, “They’ll eventually tire of picking on you. Maybe.”

“We haven’t stopped picking on you yet, dumbass!” Kai informed her brother happily.

Grif rolled his eyes and showed Simmons to the room they’d be sharing. It was small, but thankfully there was a cot in the far corner currently covered in snack wrappers.

“It isn’t much, but it’ll probably beat sleeping on the floor.” Grif stated, moving over to his own bed to wipe some of the wrappers and crumbs off of it.

Simmons sniffled, “Thank you so much!” Mentally, he was recoiling at the idea of sleeping in this slobby mess. Hopefully Grif wouldn’t mind him doing a deep clean before introducing a chore wheel to make sure the place stayed relatively tidy.

Grif stared at him incredulously, “Dude, are you crying?”

“I…I am not!” Simmons hastily wiped at his eyes, hating how emotional he got whenever someone displayed some small consideration to him and also how emotional he got out of disorderly chaos and bad hygiene.

“Guess I’ll go scrounge up some blankets then.” Grif muttered, wandering off to do just that and to probably give Simmons some privacy.

Simmons sat down on the cot and gingerly wiped off the wrappers he’d be sure to properly pick up once he got his bearings. He was immensely grateful for the place to sleep, at least. He silently prayed the blankets Grif was getting wouldn’t be coming from that massive dirty laundry pile he spotted in the living room.

*****

Dexter Grif, Simmons, Kai, and Huggins woke up at a horribly early hour the following morning, at least in Grif’s opinion. He didn’t know who the asshole was that decided that they needed to meet up with the other Reds and Blues as well as their lieutenants at headquarters at the ass crack of dawn, but he definitely made a mental note to hate them. Forever. The bastard.

Grif wasn’t surprised to find Carolina already suiting up, the red-haired woman glancing over at the newly arrived group of four, “Hurry up.” She said with no room for argument.

“No debriefing first?” He asked with a yawn, deciding he’d argue anyways.

“That was two hours ago, fat-ass!” Tucker informed Grif gleefully, obviously hoping Carolina would kick his ass.

“Considering how you just had Palomo at the briefing taking notes for you, I wouldn’t say anything, Tucker.” Carolina wryly shot back.

“Hey,” the teal-armored man shrugged, “I had to get my kid ready for school.”

“You have a kid?” Simmons asked curiously, seriously wondering who the hell would procreate with Tucker.

“Yeah, his name’s Junior.” Tucker smiled proudly, “Want to see some pics?”

“Damn. Why didn’t I think of having Matthews or Bitters take notes?” Grif muttered as Tucker happily shared pictures of his son with Simmons.

“Because Bitters wouldn’t do it and you wouldn’t have the patience to read a book if Matthews did?” Washington suggested jokingly.

“True, true.” Grif nodded his head in agreement.

“Guys, as much as your ability to slack off is impressive, we need to focus.” Carolina told them emphatically, “Kimball has a mission for us. _All_ of us.”

“So soon after the last one?” Grif groaned, glancing over towards Simmons. He’d been hoping that they could catch up without a life or death struggle so soon after meeting again, but it figured that wasn’t in the cards.

“Oh, we really don’t have time to waste, do we?” A familiar, snide voice remarked from off to the side, and Grif started when he heard it, “After all, if we keep delaying our attempts to activate the temples, we’ll all go _boom_!”

“I should have figured you’d be the reason we’d have to leave again so soon.” Grif muttered under his breath to the newcomer, ignoring the totally lost expression on Simmons’ face.

“Come now, Grif. You act as if I’m doing this just to torment you.” The man in sage armor with gold and teal trim chided, “I prefer to think of that as merely a happy bonus.”

Simmons continued to look confused while the others all more or less had levels of exasperation radiating off of them at the man’s presence, “Who is he?” The cyborg leaned in close to ask Grif, and Grif couldn’t help but shiver slightly at Simmons’ warm breath on his ear.

“Ah! You must be the sleeping cyborg I’ve heard so much about!” The man exclaimed, turning his attention to Simmons as Grif instinctively held out his arm to keep Simmons, Kai, and Huggins behind him, “Why, you’re the very reason I suggested to Kimball that we give scouring the temples another shot.”

“Why?” Simmons blinked in confusion as Grif’s eyes narrowed at this asshole yet again acting as if he knew something others didn’t, as though he could travel through time or something.

“My name is Genkins.” The jerk told the redhead, ignoring the other’s confused query entirely, “I’m sure we’ll all get along splendidly!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens and will continue to do so in the next update as things happen with the temples and Simmons learns more about Grif’s past. :D Plus, shenanigans are had in general, of course! XD
> 
> Thank you so very much for reading! :D


	5. Parallel Universe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legal Disclaimer: I do not own _Red vs. Blue_ or any of the show’s characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

Richard “Dick” Simmons’ arm dropped to his side with a quiet sigh, energy already dissipating from around the cybernetic limb. “Okay,” Tucker called out behind the redhead as Simmons stepped away to give the teal-colored soldier some room, “Time to work the magic!”

“Do you have to say that every time?” Carolina asked as Tucker’s key (_sword_) flared to brilliant life in his hand.

“Please don't give him more ridiculous ideas.” Washington told Carolina with a long-suffering sigh of his own.

“Oh, please, you just love my magic touch!” Tucker called over to the blond, teasing smirk plastered on his face as he approached the temple’s activation panel.

All heads turned in Washington's direction and the former Freelancer dipped his head down to avoid their gazes, “Yeah, no comment.” He muttered sheepishly under his breath.

“Can we please just focus, Tucker?” Carolina asked, “This is only the second temple we’ve been to. We need to make sure the first wasn't a fluke.”

_The Reds and Blues had originally visited the Temple of Interior Decorating, which was something of a deja vu trip for Simmons considering he’d woken up there. Apparently, Genkins' theory that his modified cybernetics might be connected to the temples had been proven accurate. Simmons was able to _“unlock”_ the activation panels of the temple, allowing the keys to work._ “Oh, it is like a two-step verification security sequence then!”_ He’d exclaimed happily when the connection had been discovered while Grif rolled his eyes and muttered that, of fucking course, Simmons nerded things up. However, the Temple of Interior Decorating evidently didn't do much upon activation beyond changing building decor at an inopportune moment, as proven by Kimball’s extremely loud call regarding her office’s furniture changing in the middle of a resource meeting. Thus why it had been considered the safest of the temples to try out first._

“The second temple being one regarding weaponry?” Simmons, not quite sure why, questioned Sarge.

The older man harrumphed, saying “Of course weaponry would be next on the list. Who doesn’t always need a stockpile of weapons?”

Grey, smiling as she looked up from her datapad, said, “Technically our theory is that something will happen once _all_ the temples are activated, and this one just happens to be the next closest to us!”

“Besides,” Sarge scoffed again, “We always need more weapons to fight off the bandits on the outskirts.”

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it!” Donut exclaimed loudly, “They’re a nasty bunch. Can't even be gentlemanly and say something before they try to blow you away.”

“So bandits have been a pretty big problem then?” Simmons asked, surprised. He’d have thought with the planet in imminent danger, people would be more willing to work together. It was rather disheartening to think that wasn't exactly the case.

“Oh, they've been a problem for a while now.” Doc told him gently, turning to Grif, “Isn't that right, Grif?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” But Grif seemed oddly lost in thought and far away from the conversation ever since the topic of the bandits had come up. Simmons frowned, wondering what was going on in the heavyset man’s mind and whether or not he should pry when...

“Booya! I did it again!” Tucker exclaimed as the door to the temple opened.

“That's another one down.” Doc muttered over to Donut, who merely nodded with a thoughtful look on his face.

Simmons frowned, remembering what the pair had told him before. He wasn't sure if now was a good time to try and bring it up again or not. “Great job.” Carolina briefly patted Tucker on the shoulder as she and Wash started walking past him to traverse further into the temple, “Now let's get a move on. We’ve work to do.”

“Oh? You mean testing all of the badass stuff here?” Tucker asked excitedly as he and the others slowly followed them into the cavernous space.

“Even better.” Carolina's tone was dripping with sarcasm, “We’ve an inventory check to complete.”

“Oh!” Simmons' face lit up, while both Tucker and Grif groaned in exasperation.

*****

Genkins was being just as bothersome as normal, though Dexter Grif supposed he’d brought it on himself by not simply doing inventory checks along with everyone else. But really, he’d much rather nap than do something so mundane. Besides, Simmons had actually been _ecstatic_ when Grif had handed him his datapad, even if he tried playing it down by saying _“I guess I can help you out just this once.”_ Grif couldn't bring himself to deny the nerd this apparently much needed opportunity to prove himself or whatever.

He didn't try to focus on the way his heart practically skipped a beat at Simmons' exultation. Nope, best not to dwell on that. At all. So, while everyone else was busy pouring over lists of the countless weapons and vehicles on display within the temple, Grif had snuck off to a side-corner as far away as possible from Sarge, Washington, and Carolina to get some much-needed shuteye. All of this traveling was really tuckering him out, and it was only going to get worse from here.

“Ah, I thought I spotted something orange and unmoving here!” Grif normally wouldn't have even cracked an eyelid open at someone interrupting his nap, but this was Genkins and the guy tended to make the orange-armored man feel rather uncomfortable.

“What do you want, Genkins?” Grif asked casually enough despite the dread already building up inside. There was no reason to ask why Genkins wasn't helping out with the inventory either. No doubt the annoying man felt that coming up with the idea that helped make opening the temples possible was enough of a help.

“Oh nothing, nothing. I just thought I’d stop by and say hello.” He said as if that wasn't total bullshit, “All of your friends seem to be doing a great job with cataloging everything.”

“That's super.” Grif tried to feel comfortable enough to close his eyes again.

“Yes, particularly that Simmons fellow, yes?” Genkins asked, knowing full well what the maroon-wearing man’s name was, “He seems to be quite the overachiever with those two lists.”

“Always was a born kiss-ass.” Grif muttered, nostalgically fond since he remembered thinking that whenever the redhead had visited before too.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Genkins hummed in agreement, “There certainly is quite a lot of weaponry here, though I suppose that makes sense, doesn't it?”

“It is the Temple of Weapons, after all.” Grif wondered what the point of this conversation was. There was usually always a catch with Genkins. _That_ was for sure.

“Right, right.” Genkins didn't seem to care about the guarded edge to Grif's voice, “If only Chrovos had deemed fit to give us access to this place before all the _unpleasantness_ occurred.” Grif stilled, starting to realize now what Genkins was getting at and wishing he didn't as Genkins continued, “I mean, certainly this type of arsenal would have helped your outpost during those raids, don't you think? Given them a fighting chance even with you snoozing away?”

Grif inhaled painfully.

“Of course, who's to say the outcome wouldn't have been the same even if there _had_ been better weaponry or you’d been awake?” He hummed in thought, “I guess we'll never know, will we?” Grif couldn't speak after Genkins words were heard, his throat suddenly dry as images flashed before his mind unbidden. Genkins' eyes scanned the temple area proper until they caught onto a farther away spot of maroon, “I bet Simmons would love to hear more about what happened with all of you following his being recalled.”

“Don't!” Panic rose up in Grif, and he hated how it sounded like he was begging.

“Now, now, Grif. Why would I do a thing like that?” Genkins looked over at the orange-armored man curiously, a patronizing smile on his face, “We're all friends here, aren't we?” Then, with a condescending pat to Grif's shoulder, he turned and was on his merrily destructive way.

Grif stared after him, trying to calm down his suddenly panicked breathing. When exactly had Grif jumped to his feet without even realizing it? He needed to get the fuck out of there.

*****

Simmons was happily doing inventory and sharing notes with the lieutenants. Andersmith, Jensen, and Matthews all seemed to really take what the redhead said to heart, even jotting down notes which left Simmons feeling oddly touched. Bitters just wandered off after saying a quick _"Yeah. Got it."_ and Palomo grinned sheepishly, apologizing for _“Tuning you out after the first sentence, sir!”_

Simmons sighed, noting that Palomo had sidled over to where Jensen was assisting Lopez with cataloguing the different types of grenade launchers the Reds and Blues had recently acquired. Palomo seemed to absorb everything the girl said with keen interest, so Simmons figured that he’d ultimately be all right. He wondered if Jensen was aware of just how obvious a crush the young man who was Tucker's subordinate had on her. Should he bring it up? That might be awkward, especially since it wasn't like he could give advice on the matter, but maybe...

“Oh, don't worry, sir!” Matthews suddenly spoke up from next to Simmons as if reading his thoughts, “Palomo talks a certain way, but he really cares about Jensen. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her intentionally.”

“I see.” Simmons replied, feeling slightly relieved. Though they had only been assigned to one another for a short while, he’d grown rather fond of Jensen. She was almost as much a little sister to him now as he tended to view Donut, even if Donut has seemed oddly mature since he’d woken up. Gah, here he was feeling out of place again!

“Matthews, how many times do I have to tell you not to stick your nose in other people's business?” Bitters chided, though there was an exasperated fondness to his voice all the same.

Andersmith wandered off to go find Caboose, who they had last seen in a spirited conversation with Carolina, Washington, and Tucker. Doc merely smiled and said _"Blue Team dynamics"_ to Simmons as if that explained everything when Sarge had grumbled and wandered off as Grey and Donut both tried to console the older man in their own friendly ways. Which left Grif and Kai's lieutenants with Simmons.

“But, Bitters, they’re our friends!” Matthews pouted, “And you’ve been trying to get them to see each other for months now!”

Bitters looked over at Simmons in slight alarm, “That's on a need to know basis.” He hissed at Matthews, “As in, no one needs to know!”

“Aw, you're just being shy again.” Matthews grinned, “You just don't like people knowing how much of a softie you are when it comes to your friends, Bitters.”

Bitters' face darkened with a blush as he quickly grabbed Matthews' arm and started pulling him away, “Let's go, Matthews. Those guns won't inventory themselves.” He added under his breath, “Though it would be fucking awesome if they did.”

“See you later, sir!” Matthews called out to Simmons as he cheerfully saluted him one more time. Simmons smiled and waved back. There was something about Matthews that he quite liked. He hoped the younger man’s can-do attitude meant he’d go far.

“There you are!” Kaikaina's loud exclamation from behind nearly caused Simmons to drop his datapad, barely catching it before it clattered to the ground.

“Kai, you've known where he is for the past twenty minutes.” Huggins informed her as she stepped out from behind the other young woman, “No need to be so dramatic.”

“You know me.” Kai winked at her, “Always have to make an entrance.”

Huggins' smile was fond, “Don't I know it.” She replied.

“Oh! Um, can I help you?” Simmons asked once his artificial heart had stopped pounding in his chest.

“Yeah.” Kai crossed her arms over her chest, “Have you seen my big bro around here?”

“Grif?” Simmons frowned, shaking his head, “Not since he gave me his datapad earlier.”

The two women looked over at one another, “He’s probably napping then.” Huggins surmised.

“Yeah, figured as much.” Kai gave a small wave to Simmons, “I'm gonna go bug the old guy for a bit about super-secret Blue stuff. If you happen to see Grif, let him know lunchtime is coming up?”

“Not that he'll likely miss it.” Huggins said assuredly.

That was true. Simmons had seen his armor storage before. It was filled to the brim with snacks and rations. As the two women wandered off, Simmons tried to focus back on the important task of inventorying. But no matter how he cataloged the bullets he currently perused, his mind kept wandering back to the fact that Grif was apparently nowhere in sight. With a sigh, he decided to go look for his heavyset friend.

*****

Grif was surprised when Simmons found him by the vehicles that the Reds and Blues had procured from the temple, surmising that heavily armored and equipped modes of transport could be considered weapons in and of themselves. He was looking over a motorcycle transport called a Mongoose, which he supposed looked like one more than a Warthog resembled an actual Warthog. Grif raised an eyebrow at the sight of the maroon soldier staring at him like he hadn't seen him in weeks, let alone mere hours ago.

The orange-armored man couldn't help the small intake of breath and the pounding of his heart at the attention being directed his way, though he was able to play it off like it was no big deal by raising an eyebrow at Simmons skeptically instead, “Are you seriously skipping out on inventory, Simmons? _Tsk tsk_, you'll lose your nerd crown that way.”

“Sh--shut up!” His words had the intended effect, and Grif got the added bonus of getting to watch Simmons' face turn red, a surprisingly good color on him, as the geek straightened and looked off to the side, “I was looking for you. Kai said it's almost lunchtime.”

Grif was touched that both Simmons and Kai had thought of him at such an important junction of the day, but he shrugged all the same and patted some of his armor storage compartments, “Thanks, but I have it covered.”

“I...I figured.” Simmons' shoulders slumped as he seemed to realize that his non-embarrassing reason for being there and looking for Grif was dissipating fast. But then a curious expression came over his features as he asked, “What are you doing here in the temple's motor pool?”

Grif shrugged, not even having to think up the excuse he had on hand in case someone asked him that very question, “Inventory. Duh.”

Simmons looked doubtful, “Without a datapad? And after Sarge already covered this area?”

_God fucking damn it._ Of course Simmons couldn't just take his word for it. He shrugged, “You got me. I was looking for a place to nap undisturbed.”

That doubtful look was still plastered all over Simmons' face, “On a Mongoose?” He asked hesitatingly.

_Damn it._ Why hadn't Grif decided to check out the Warthogs (_Pumas_) first? That would have totally made things more plausible. At long last, he settled on a half-truth. “Next step after inventorying is testing that some of these things are actually functional, right?” Grif asked Simmons, a known sucker for that type of protocol, “I figured I’d get an early start and give one of these guys a test run.”

“But...!”

He didn't bother letting Simmons finish his protest as he threw his leg over the side of a Mongoose and straddled the machine. It reminded him of when he’d done patrol runs at the outpost, which in turn reminded him of Genkins and his whole spiel and...

“Grif?” Simmons was suddenly standing right next to him, looking down concernedly into the tan-skinned man’s face. _Great._ He nearly had a panic attack right in front of the kiss-ass. Grif felt his face heat up as he quickly pulled away from Simmons' worried stare, feeling oddly guilty for some reason.

“Anyways, I'll be back before the others know I’m gone.” Grif assured him. He figured if he just drove around for a bit he’d calm down and...

Grif was surprised when Simmons sat down behind him on the machine, heat once again flaring over his body at the close contact as Simmons wrapped his arms around his waist. “Forget it. I'm going to just to make sure you don't fall asleep somewhere and shirk your duties again.” Simmons insisted, probably not even aware of just how close proximity-wise they were to one another.

Grif swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, “Whatever you say, kiss-ass.” He tried covering up the pounding in his ears with his usual bravado, “Hold tight.”

*****

They drove until the Temple of Weaponry was nothing but a small spot on the horizon before Grif finally gave the machine a rest. “Okay.” He murmured as Simmons reluctantly made himself let go. He found that Grif was surprisingly nice to cling to when they were traveling at such fast speeds, not that Simmons would ever admit such a thing out loud even as his face warmed up all the way to his face plating, “I think we can safely say that this thing runs pretty well.”

“You think?” Simmons shot Grif an incredulous look as the pair dismounted from the machine, “It _is_ a gift from Chrovos. Of course it would be in top form.”

“I don't know. I think Chrovos has done some questionable things myself.” Grif muttered, his eyes scanning the cybernetics on Simmons' body.

Simmons wrapped his arms around himself self-consciously, “I’m sure he had his reasons.” He murmured, though his mind went back to what Donut and Doc has told him earlier. Maybe he should tell Grif about it too. After all, he didn't seem as excited about finding out what happened to the god that had abandoned them. And then _what_, exactly? He stopped himself a minute later. Telling Grif would just make the other upset. It wasn't like Doc and Donut hadn't said that they still needed to find Chrovos. Grif still had a faraway look on his face, as if something was majorly bothering him. And that was the main reason why Simmons had really forced himself to come along on this excursion in the first place. He took in a deep breath, “What is really going on, Grif?”

Grif took a step back as if Simmons had actually hit him, “Nothing,” he paused and sighed, “I just needed to get away from the temple for a while. From Genkins.”

“Why?” Simmons didn't exactly like his first impression of the man, but he knew that for Grif it seemed far more personal.

“He just knows exactly what to say to get under my skin.” Grif frowned in thought and looked away, “Like today. He had to mention the outpost of all things.”

“Outpost?” Simmons was genuinely at a loss as to what the heavyset man was talking about.

“Right. I forgot that you wouldn't be one of the people who’d know about it.” Grif let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, and Simmons nearly had a panic attack when he realized they’d ridden without helmets on.

“Shortly after you were recalled or whatever by Chrovos and this whole disaster happened, I joined the army.”

“Why?” Simmons asked. It didn't seem like something Grif would do willingly.

Grif shrugged, “I guess I just felt like I was missing structure in my life.” He refused to meet Simmons' gaze then, “At any rate, I got assigned to one of the satellite outposts they were trying to set up to decrease the population overflow in Armonia.” He frowned in recollection, “The outposts never lasted long. There were always resource issues the further away you got from Armonia, and bandits were a huge issue too.”

Simmons could almost tell how this was going to turn out when Grif paused at that point. He wanted to say something but found that he couldn't.

“A particularly nasty group of bandits attacked the outpost I was stationed at. Everyone there died but me.” Grif shuddered, “Because I was napping at the time.”

“Grif...” Simmons began before trailing off, unsure how to continue.

Grif shook his head, “The first couple of days afterwards were the worst. I couldn't get any messages out and I couldn't just leave the bodies, so I started burying them when I could. I nearly, well, I’d have lost it had Locus not shown up when he did. He helped me with taking care of things, then got me back to Armonia where I rejoined the army and he became a bodyguard for Kimball for atonement or some shit.” He smiled self-derisively, “It is one of the reasons I always try to feed him. He didn't give up on a waste of space like me, so I won't on him.”

Simmons couldn't think of a thing to say then. His mind was drawing a blank, and his throat was too closed up to get the words out anyways. So instead, he reached over and grabbed Grif's shoulder gently. Grif seemed shocked at the touch given what he’d just told Simmons, but he quickly melted into it all the same much to Simmons' surprise since the redhead was expecting him to pull away in disgust or something.

“Can we just stay here a bit longer?” Grif asked, closing his eyes, “I'll even share some of my snacks.”

Simmons couldn't do anything but nod his head, his breath catching in his throat when Grif leaned into his side by the Mongoose.

*****

They didn't end up eating anything after all, and when they got back to the Temple of Weaponry it was to Kai, Huggins, Carolina, and Sarge waiting for them outside the entrance.

“I knew it!” Kai yelled out excitedly at the sight, holding out her hand for Huggins to give her something, “Pay up, bitch!”

Huggins rolled her eyes, “We both bet the same thing, Kai.” She reminded the younger Grif sibling.

“Yeah, but I got the hour right!” Kai gloated.

Huggins sighed in fond exasperation before kissing her cheek and then winking knowingly at Grif and Simmons before the pair skipped back inside. Carolina merely sighed, “Next time remember to contact us first.” was all she muttered before following the two other females inside the temple proper.

Sarge, however, stared at them expectantly, “You want to explain what you've been up to for over three hours?” He asked the pair in a tone that indicated he didn’t really want to know the answer to his inquiry.

Grif snorted as Simmons nearly panicked, “Well, I can tell you what we _weren’t_ doing.” He said matter-of-factly. Despite the fact that he was facing disapproval from an authority figure, the slight smirk in Grif's tone caused Simmons to be unable to help the chuckle that escaped his lips. The redhead laughed loudly, much to the surprise of Sarge and the delight of Grif.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long it has been since the last update, but rest assured that I’ve no intention of abandoning any of my stories. I hope this longer chapter was enjoyable at least! :D
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! :)


	6. Weather Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legal Disclaimer: I do not own _Red vs. Blue_ or any of the show’s characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

Locus lowered his arm as the temple flared to life, his key deactivating as the limb descended. Behind him, Tucker pouted at not having been the one selected to make the Temple of Weather activate.

“I totally forgot until just now that you had a key too, Locus!” Donut exclaimed, trying to be his friendly, conversational self to the usually taciturn man.

“He’s been carrying it with him since he became Kimball's bodyguard, you know.” Doc reminded the pink-armored man gently.

“I know, but he doesn't just whip it out and show it like Tucker does every five seconds.” Donut stated right back, head shifting towards the still disappointed Blue.

“Uh, that's because it’s too awesome not to show off all the time!” Tucker explained with a roll of his eyes as he glanced towards Washington for validation, “Right?”

“Aw, come on, Tucker, you're plenty amazing as it is!” Doc assured the dark-skinned man before the blond Freelancer could properly respond.

“Yeah, there's no need for you to feel like you have to validate yourself with something big and throbbing!” Donut assured Tucker, and Washington couldn’t help but groan at his phrasing.

“Oh, I'll show you big and throbbing! _Ow!_” Tucker winced as Washington pinched his ear, dragging him away from the others.

“I must admit, I was rather shocked to learn you had a sword too.” Richard “Dick” Simmons tried to fill into the awkward silence that followed, nervously looking towards Locus, “How'd that come to happen, if you don't mind me asking?”

“It was a while ago. During the Great Disaster.” Locus muttered. He looked oddly sheepish as he added, “I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Oh, sorry!” Simmons was quick to stutter in response, thinking _“Please don't hurt me!”_ as he did so.

“Yeah, you see, Simon, Locus had this best friend named Felix like how I have Church. Only he wasn't so great a friend.” Caboose tried explaining, “There was a thing.”

“...” Locus merely stared at Caboose, as if unsure how to respond to his version of events.

“But then the thing was over, and Locus got a shiny new sword and became our friend instead! And everyone was happy. The end.” Caboose summarizes, “I like shiny things.”

“That's good then, right?” Simmons mumbled lamely, unsure of how else to respond to Caboose’s story.

“Your retelling of events is quite amazing, sir!” Andersmith was quick to chime in so that Caboose felt appreciated.

Locus looked torn, “Yes, it was very thorough.”

“I would like to be a storyteller one day.” Caboose told them, “Or a cowboy.”

“Both are excellent career choices, sir!” Andersmith assured him, as if they were both totally plausible career paths for Caboose eventually.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bitters asked from where he stood close by to the blue-striped lieutenant, only for Matthews to mime for him to shut up.

“Still, I was surprised that the two of you decided to come on this mission as well.” Sarge notes, turning his attention back to both Kimball and Locus.

“Kimball wished to come,” Locus deftly ignored Tucker's far-away _“Bow-chika-bow-wow!”_ catchphrase then, “And I accompanied her as her bodyguard.”

“It has been such a long time that I wanted to see a temple being activated with my own eyes,” Kimball admitted, “And I figured Locus should have at least some stake in seeing them activated.”

“I... Thank you, Kimball.” Locus looked oddly uncomfortable and unsure about the sentiment, enough so that both Caboose and Andersmith patted him briefly on the shoulders as if to assure him it was okay as Kimball gave him a brief nod that apparently spoke volumes.

Simmons looked questioningly over to Jensen and Palomo standing nearby, and Jensen smiled apologetically at his clueless demeanor, “Locus wasn't exactly extremely helpful before he gained the sword here on Chorus.” she explained.

“Yeah, so it's kind of a big deal that Kimball trusts him enough now to let him do things like this.” Palomo further elaborated.

“But then why was she allowing him to be her bodyguard?” Simmons asked in confusion, unsure of how the situation had changed.

“Better to keep your potential enemies close enough to stab should you need to.” Sarge cut in, “Though I think her opinion of him has changed since then.”

Obviously, if she was letting him activate temples now. No wonder someone as taciturn as Locus had appeared affected. “Told you guys before. He's a good guy now!” Grif said adamantly nearby. Simmons nodded in agreement. If Grif in particular said so, he was going to believe it.

“Todos lo sabemos ahora. Aunque no sé si reír o llorar, él realmente me entiende.” _{“We all know that now. Though I don't know whether to laugh or cry that he actually understands me.”}_ Lopez muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

"Okay." Grey intoned happily as she checked something off on her datapad, “Looks like we're all done here.”

“What?” Tucker asked, having apparently escaped from Washington as he ran back over to their assembled group in front of the temple, “Aren't we going to test this baby out like the last ones?”

“Captain Tucker,” Kimball addressed him thoughtfully, “How exactly would you have us test out the Temple of Weather?”

“I don't know.” Tucker grinned and pantomimed shuffling paper money with his hands, “Make it rain?”

“That isn't even close to what this temple can actually do, Tucker.” Washington told him flatly when he had caught up with him again.

“Well we won't know for sure until we try it out!” Tucker stated adamantly.

“The ground could use some rain.” Carolina noted quietly to Kimball, as if ashamed she was agreeing with Tucker.

Grey actually nodded her head in agreement with Carolina’s assessment, “If we can do so in moderation, yes,” The female doctor explained, “It would do wonders for our vegetation.”

“Screw that moderation shit!” Kaikaina exclaimed loudly, “I wanna get soaked! Parts of me are way too dusty, if you catch my drift.”

The tone of her voice indicated the wink she most likely did there and Grif smacked the side of his helmet, “Damnit, Kai! What did I say about not embarrassing the family?!?”

“It has been a while since we last got a good rain.” Huggins agreed with Grey as Kimball sighed.

Tucker grinned, “So that's a yes, right?” He looked pointedly towards Locus, “Let me try it out this time!”

“Oh no.” Both Grif and Simmons said at once as Locus stepped off to the side.

“Excelente. Otra oportunidad para que me oxide.” _{“Great. Another chance for me to rust.”}_ Lopez seemed to be lamenting something.

“Yes, I just love getting all slippery and wet!” Donut exclaimed happily next to Doc, “Don't you, Doc?”

Doc nodded, “Just as much as I love getting down and dirty in the garden!”

“Whoo-hoo, now you're talking!” Kaikaina was no doubt grinning underneath her helmet, “And the garden sounds kinky!”

“Rezo por que no lo sea.” _{“I pray it's not.”}_ Lopez muttered.

Grif groaned beside him, and Simmons could only hope that a little rain wouldn't be too harmful.

*****

“So,” Simmons noted from under the jutting rubble of a nearly collapsed roof, the pattern of raindrops hitting the top of it as rivulets of water dripped down its sides, “Tucker did, in fact, make it rain.”

“Yep.” Grif agreed from his spot right next to the redhead, staring out into the cloud-darkened sky.

Simmons glanced nervously at the drenched ground, “This seems like an awful lot of water.”

“Yeah, but it's not like Chorus _can’t_ really use it.” Grif informed him, “Rain has been harder to come by since the Great Disaster.”

“I see.” Simmons nodded his head in understanding. It made a sick sort of sense that such a cataclysmic event would affect the atmosphere too. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, “Did Tucker think to put a stop time on this rainfall?”

“Don't worry, even if _he_ didn't, Grey would just get Locus to do it later.”

Simmons had noticed that Locus hadn't come out with the group that had decided to check on the weather changes from outside the temple. Perhaps he was just going to discreetly put a stop to the rain in a few hours. “You really do trust him, huh?” Simmons asked, for want of something else to say.

An orange-helmeted nod was his response, “Yeah. You remember what I told you earlier about...” Grif trailed off, and Simmons knew he was referring to his reveal about the doomed outpost, “Well, anyways, Locus was the one who found me out there. I probably would’ve died if not for him.”

Simmons nodded, unsure of what or if he should say anything. There was so much that he’d missed out on by being asleep and a part of felt weirdly jealous over that realization, even though he felt awful that Grif and the others had gone through what they did all the same. He turned his head to try and shake those weird, strange feelings aside as he glanced towards the others in their group.

Grey, Sarge, Doc, and Donut and all of the Lieutenants minus Andersmith for some reason huddled together under a ruined bridge. Somehow they’d gotten a picnic started, though Simmons supposed that Doc and Donut probably had several prepared picnic baskets for these temple outings if their last lunchtime stop had been anything to go by. He was honestly shocked Grif hadn't wanted to join them, though Grif said that he’d seen Grey feeding enough peanut butter on celery to Sarge to last him a lifetime. The group seemed to be in jovial spirits despite the downpour, and Simmons supposed that could have been largely due to the fact that this rain was sorely needed. Peals of laughter could be heard coming from their direction, and he couldn't help but smile slightly at the sound before turning his head off to the other side.

_Huh._ And there was Kimball, standing in the middle of a clearing of scraggly trees, her helmet off and face tilted upwards as the rain came crashing down on her. Oddly enough, Kimball didn't seem to mind the rain at all, as if she was in some kind of peaceful repose. Carolina approached the other woman as Simmons watched, her own helmet off. They conversed softly, Carolina putting a hand on Kimball's shoulder and turning her slightly. Their faces coming together underneath the rain until lips were touching and...

Simmons' face went exponentially red at having witnessed something he knew he probably shouldn't have, and he turned his head to the other side again. Jensen was throwing bits of bread at a laughing Palomo who sucked at dodging them, while Matthews and Bitters talked sipping on drinks. Doc was holding Donut's hand tightly, looking as though the pink-armored man alone lit up the world. And yep, Grey and Sarge smiled as they hand-fed one another.

“You know what?” Simmons said suddenly in an all too squeaky and not at all suspicious voice, “I think maybe we should check inside the temple again. Make sure everyone is doing all right there.”

Grif shrugged and said “Sure.” to that in an indifferent sort of way, letting Simmons lead the way.

*****

The first thing Dexter Grif noticed when they stepped inside the Temple of Weather was that it was far colder in here than it was outside, even with the rain. Oh, and it was fucking _snowing_, because of course it was. He probably shouldn't have been surprised, given that Tucker had been the one to activate the temple. Honestly, he was more impressed that the guy had decided to at least keep the snow inside the ancient building. They didn't really need any more nasty blizzards out in Chorus.

“Wha...?” Simmons trailed off, gaping at the sight. 

Grif supposed he couldn't blame him. Snow indoors was pretty weird shit, but the temples in general were inexplicable like that. He just wished he hadn't left his helmet back in Matthews' care, as his ears were a bit cold now. A snowball blew past him, just as Kai yelled _"Suck it, bitch!"_ over at the other Blues in their makeshift snow hallway fort. She and Huggins were expertly lobbing freezing projectiles from their own fortress, dodging back behind it whenever they needed a fiver and laughing profusely together side-by-side. It made Grif’s heart glad to see it, though he would never admit that out loud and give the two females something to tease him about.

“That would give you brain-freeze.” Caboose intoned rather seriously from where he was adding more snow to the fort instead of really playing along with the fight. In fact, Huggins and Kai seemed to be avoiding hitting him on purpose.

“Not what they meant, Caboose!” Tucker yelled as he threw two snowballs over the fort's walls. His aim was almost as bad as Church's sniping skills had been.

“_Hah!_ You suck!” Kai yelled as she threw another ball.

Tucker dodged it just in time, only for the ball to end up plowing right into the back of Washington's head as the blond conversed with Locus and Andersmith over something. Grif raised an eyebrow slightly when Locus suddenly grabbed Andersmith by the elbow and walked him over to Caboose while Tucker laughed his ass off at a blank-faced Washington, “Oh dude, you should've seen the look on your face!”

“Oh really, Captain Tucker?” Washington asked, before suddenly racing forward and tackling Tucker to the ground.

Tucker was torn between screaming and still laughing as Washington, pinning him down with his legs on his hips, stuffed snow down the Blue’s armor. He started begging for mercy just around the time that Huggins caught sight of Grif and Simmons, “You guys! Come on, help us out!” She called out.

“Yeah, we can't let Tucker win this shit!” Kai declared vehemently, and Grif wondered how she got so competitive. Sure as hell not from his lazy ass.

“But,” Simmons began, “Washington seems to be defeating him just fine!”

“Hardly the point, gray nerd!” Kai informed him, “That's just foreplay!”

Simmons sputtered as Grif sighed and grabbed his arm, shrugging when Simmons' green and red eyes looked over at him questioningly, “Might as well just do what they say or they will never stop.” He advised with a fake sigh.

“Damn straight!” Both females shot back before grinning at each other and blowing kisses.

Grif led Simmons over to the snow fort, gripping the other's hand just a little more tightly than was probably necessary and then the heavyset man dove down onto the snowy ground, Simmons landing on top of him. He didn't complain about that either, especially when he got a good close-up look at Simmons' suddenly red face. The snowball fight commenced, with Simmons helping to create more rounds for Kai and Huggins to throw while Grif just napped on the side of the fort and helped maintain its structural stability.

Every time Simmons dove down to avoid getting hit by a snowball, his entire body would go flush against Grif's, and he felt the warmth to his very core. When he finally refused to let Simmons get back up, neither man spoke about it. They subconsciously huddled closer together, but it didn’t matter that they’d stopped participating since the snowball fight that day was won by Washington, Kai, and Huggins anyways.

*****

Simmons couldn't help the smile that currently spread across his face despite how wet and cold he was. The others had gone back with Locus and Tucker to put a stop to the rain when Kimball had decided enough was enough while Simmons purposefully ignored looking at the branches in her and Carolina's hair. Simmons had wanted to remain at the temple entrance to try and dry off somewhat before joining them, even though he’d been so tempted to just say _“Fuck it.”_ to stay close by Grif. However, he didn't want Grif to think of him as being too weird or too clingy either.

As he shook out some of the water in his maroon-armored greaves, he heard footsteps approaching and nearly gave a start when he found Genkins standing nearby. He’d almost forgotten that the man had come with them this time since he had appeared to be making himself scarce, “Eventful day, today, wasn't it?” Genkins asked with false sincerity.

Simmons nodded, feeling uneasy in his presence though he wasn't sure why, “Uh-huh.”

“Just a few more temples left to go though!” Genkins intoned happily, “Oh, I can hardly wait! We'll be meeting Chrovos again soon.” Genkins looked over at the redhead expectantly, “I’m sure you have questions you'd like to ask them.”

“I...” Simmons let his sentence linger off as he took a step back, remembering how he’d been recalled and what Donut and Doc had also told him. What _would_ he say if he ever saw Chrovos?

“Simmons? _Oh!_” Huggins exclaimed, having exited the temple's inner sanctum only to stop abruptly when she spotted Genkins with the cyborg. Suddenly she was standing in-between them, almost as if she were trying to protect Simmons, “The others were wondering where you were.”

“Oh, we were just having a friendly chat.” Genkins smiled towards Simmons, “Isn't that right?”

“Um...” Simmons trailed off, not sure how to respond.

“At any rate, I’ll prep the vehicles for our immediate departure.” Genkins informed them, “If you'll excuse me.”

Huggins didn't seem to relax until Genkins was out of sight, and then she turned to look at Simmons thoughtfully, “You okay?” She asked, clearly concerned.

Simmons nodded, not sure why Genkins creeped him out so much.

“Hey, Huggins! Simmons!” Grif's voice was suddenly calling out, “Don't make me expend actual effort looking for you!”

Huggins noted how Simmons' face lit up at the sound of Grif's voice and couldn't help but smile slightly herself as they made their way over to her friend, the tense weirdness that always accompanied Genkins temporarily forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that everyone is staying safe and doing all right during these very tense and stressful times. Take care and stay healthy, everyone!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! :)


End file.
